Cherchez la Femme
by Sir Thopas
Summary: She was the kind of femme who could wear full battle armor and still look completely naked. One of those femmes with hard faces and mocking smiles and optics that sized you up and found you wanting... but you'd do, for now. Part of the "Corsicon" series.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note – Part of the "Corsicon" series. You don't need to read the others to understand this story, however. The summary comes from an article written in _The Bleat_ by James Lileks (Feb 7, 2003) and the film mentioned in this chapter is _Gilda_ (1946) with Rita Hayworth as the quintessential femme fatale. This story came about from my absolute love film noir. I wanted to write something a little different from the typical noir, though, and decided to make the two great archetypes of the genre – the Hardboiled Detective and the Femme Fatale – the same person: Blackarachnia.

**Cherchez la Femme**

_Chapter 1_

Blackarachnia felt her valve pump wildly in her chassis as she was lifted up by Rhinox's medical platform. She stood there suspended above her Maximal comrades, looking up at her like she was some poor lamb to slaughter. She wanted to sneer at them, wanted to say something cruel and heartless just to wipe those pitying looks off their faces; it's not as if the actually _cared_ or anything. Well, Silverbolt did, but he was different. He wasn't like the others. He was kind and loyal and sweet and stupid, and Blackarachnia will never say that she loved him but then again she didn't dislike him either. Blackarachnia focused on him for just a moment, but the naked fear etched across his features forced her to look away. It was pathetic and it made something hurt deep within her chest plate. "See you soon, boys," she quipped, nearly choking on the off-hand remark. "If you're lucky."

Because despite what Optimus said it wouldn't be _her_ greeting them when this whole thing was over. It would be someone else, someone _Maximal_. Blackarachnia wondered what she was like as she slipped into stasis.

* * *

As a sparkling, Synergy never really understood the differences between "mechs" and "femmes." Oh, she could rattle off the statistics with the best of them: Femmes made up 10% of the Maximal population, they were originally created to perform certain tasks such as cleaning and serving, they were, on average, at least a foot shorter than the average Maximal and were defined by their tapered waists, large hip bolts, and angled chest plates. But none of that told her _what_ a femme was. Other than the minor differences in their structures, they were exactly same as mechs. So what was her purpose? Why did bots prefer femmes be the ones serving them energon at restaurants instead of mechs? Why did bots react strangely when confronted with a masculine femme and a feminine mech? A femme was just as strong as a mech, so why did mechs think they had to protect and care for them? They weren't like organics. It didn't make any sense. But no one questioned it. They had always acted this way, at least as far back as they could remember. Their past and history before the Great War had long been shadowed in mystery and no one was willing to find out the truth. Or, if they were, they were quickly silenced.

It wasn't until her very first date that Synergy finally understood the difference. The bot's name was Blue Falcon and he had shyly asked her if she wanted to see a human film with him at the Museum of Cybertron. Of course she jumped at the chance. Not because of _him -_ she couldn't have cared less about the mech - but because it was a _human film_. Ever since the Great War, Earth had been listed as a "No Contact" planet. It was forbidden to visit the planet and no information was to be exchanged between their peoples. What little pieces of human culture that had managed to make its way to Cybertron during the war years was treasured like a sacred artifact. The humans just seemed so… _cool_. Every young bot wanted to be like them.

The event had been sold out within the hour and Synergy had been surprised that Blue Falcon had managed to get a hold of _two_ tickets. It must have cost him an obscene amount of credits. Synergy could pretend to like him, if it meant seeing the film.

She watched as a human female slithered across the screen in black and white, flipping her hair and shimmying her hips. "Put the blame on Mame, boys, put the blame on Mame!" She sang as she pulled one long, satin glove off of her arm. She smiled flirtatiously and moved to the beat, all the while threatening to take off the rest of her clothing. Synergy thought that even if she went through with her dare, it would matter. She would only be nude; it was the human males that would truly naked. They gave themselves freely to her: to be used or abused, whatever she wanted they would give her.

She had learned about basic human and organic biology. She knew about male and female, about sexual intercourse, from a purely scientific view but she didn't truly _understand_. Cybertronians didn't operate like that. They didn't have to interface to create a spark the way a human had to have sex to create another human. Interfacing was all plugs and wires, about fun and boredom and a nice way to pass the time. Sparking was private and painful and it literally split one's spark in half. One had nothing to do with the other. Humans were too messy; everything was mixed up altogether, nothing separate. They needed each other in a way Cybertronians didn't.

She saw that need for what it truly was: power. The human males didn't just want her, they didn't think to themselves, "She seems like an interesting person. I would like to get to know her more." No, to them she represented something much more basic, more primal. She was their salvation, the continuation of their species and she never once let them forget it. She lorded it over them, dangling it like a carrot. She made them need her. Synergy wanted that power for herself.

Cybertronians preferred straight lines and hard angles. To them, the most beautiful thing in the universe was a perfect square, but watching that film Synergy could see the appeal of circles.

Synergy possessed a brilliant technical processor and had an aptitude for creating new and interesting upgrades for Cybertronian bodies. She was on the fast track to becoming a well-respected researcher worthy of the Center of Research and Development of Cybertron, the planet's preeminent scientific facility. That meant nothing to her, however. Let other bots be content with a mere middling job as some poor researcher, slaving away for others and taking none of the credit for themselves. No, Synergy was going to be _Head Director_ someday.

She just needed to get her ped in the door first.

There was an internship available at the Center and of course she had gotten an interview. There was a problem, however: only one position was available and she would literally be going against hundreds of applicants. She wasn't worried about most of them- ambitionless, gray-faced bots that they were. Her main concern was Vesper. Vesper, who was brought online with his mouth glued to some bot's aft. Vesper, who made it a point to score higher than her in every single class.

_He's good_, she mused as she bent over her work, carefully soldering the metal plates together, but she had something he didn't. Synergy carefully lifted up the chassis and studied it; it was delicate work and needed a soft hand, but she was positive that her seams were flawless. Not a hard edge in sight, only planes of smooth, rounded metal.

She would prove to the committee that she deserved that spot by doing something that no bot had ever done before.

* * *

Synergy could hear the whispers follow her as she walked down the hall. _Is that a new model,_ they asked. _How obscene_, they hissed. Synergy smiled to herself; she couldn't have asked for a better reaction.

She approached the interview room, ignoring the rows of students all anxiously awaiting their turn, and let the door slide open for her. Five mechs were sitting around a table and grilling poor Vesper, but their questions petered off into silence the moment she walked in. They couldn't tear their optics away from her new body, the shock apparent on their faces. There was a reason why bots didn't just change bodies every time they had worn theirs out and were on the verge of death: it was an extremely difficult procedure that caused immense pain to the spark. It was not uncommon for such operations to prove fatal. Synergy had spent weeks perfecting a new upgrade that would allow her to refit her body with a new armor piece by piece. It was an amazing feat of technical skill, although she suspected her genius wasn't the cause behind the silence.

For the first time in Cybertronian history, Synergy had created a structure that was not based on lines or squares or triangles, but instead on curves and circles. Her body had a flow that was almost organic in nature with a chassis that emulated the full breasts of human females. She had, in her humble opinion, created a masterpiece of art. Of course the old conservatives who were always bemoaning the influence of human culture on Cybertronian youth would never be able to appreciate it, but she didn't need them to.

Her new form was all for her.

"Oh! I'm sorry," she said in a voice that dripped with false sincerity. "Someone told me that it was my turn. My mistake." She turned and left, letting the door slide shut behind her before taking a seat. She grinned maliciously; no matter what Vesper said now, all that the interviewers would be thinking of was her.

It didn't take more than five clicks before Vesper was storming out, his face twisted in pure anger. He stood in front of her, nearly shaking with rage. Synergy smiled sweetly up at him and modestly crossed her legs. "I know that's you, Synergy. Only you would sink so low in an attempt to gain the upper servo. You think they're going to hire you because of that body?" He spat out. "You just made a complete fool of yourself. They're not going to hire someone so… _indecent_."

Synergy casually inspected her digits, not even bothering to look up at the mech. "Really? You think so? Even if that were true they're certainly not going to give the position to _you_. Not now, anyway. I bet they can't even remember your name. How long were you in there with them? Your interview was much shorter than the rest of the bots here. They probably weren't even bothering to pay attention. Gee, I hope it wasn't _me_ that distracted them."

Vesper stood there looking for all the world like he wanted to punch her in the face. She grinned, nearly begging him with her optics to try it.

"Unit: Synergy."

"That's me," Synergy remarked as she stood up. "Wish me luck!" She sauntered through the door, throwing Vesper a wink over her shoulder as she entered the interview room. It was a little intimidating: there was just a chair in that little room with five hard-faced mechs staring down at her. She slunk into the chair with all the catlike grace her new body afforded her and waited for them to say something.

And waited.

And waited.

Finally one of them cleared his vocalize awkwardly. "Your name is Synergy, correct?" He asked. He was a large mech and painted white, gray, and blue. She thought he had a nice, kind face. "How did you come by such an… unusual… structure?"

"Well, I was given a standard Femme Unit #3 with Car Alt Mode when I was sparked, but I've developed a program that would allow me to refit my structure with new armor easily and painlessly." If there was pride in her voice then no one could blame her. She was _good_.

The mech nodded his head, clearly impressed. The others seemed intrigued as well, with the exception of the one in the middle. He was a red and black bot, older than the others, and hard-looking. "Why did you design your armor to look like that?" The red-and-black bot demanded.

"I liked the way it looked. Don't you?" She nearly purred.

"No." The mech's voice was flat and hard.

"She clearly displays a talent in structure engineering," the white bot pointed out.

"That form is obscene," The red bot stressed. "I'm the Director of the Center and I will not have my facility… _perverted_ by her form. All researchers must maintain a respectable appearance and prove ethical in their conduct."

"Now, her form might be a bit scandalous, but I hardly think it's unethical," one of the other bots protested. "She's got a sharp processor. We're always looking for raw talent."

The Director shook his head and fixed her with a cold stare. "We will discuss your application and inform you in due time."

Synergy nodded and rose from her chair. She wondered if she had made a mistake. Still, she wasn't going to let the other bots know what she was thinking. She held her head high and sauntered out of the room, swaying her hips with every step in a defiant gesture.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note – Forgot to include in the previous author's note that the title comes from a French saying that translates to "look to the woman." What it means is that when a man is upset or depressed look for a woman because she will be the cause of it.

**Cherchez la Femme**

_Chapter 2_

Synergy smiled at the first line she read.

_Congratulations_

She was in.

Of course it was stupid of her to doubt. She had been able to achieve something that very few Cybertronians had ever done: she had altered her structure without first reducing it to its primary stage, the protoform. Her aesthetic choices may be somewhat controversial, but the fact was she was a damn good scientist. Everything else could go to the Pit.

Synergy laughed as she switched off her console. She could only imagine the look on Vesper's face when he read his rejection letter.

* * *

Synergy sneered at the way every pair of optics slid over her figure in fascination and revulsion before quickly darting away. How could a simple curve cause so much controversy? It didn't matter. She didn't come to the Center to make friends. One day they would all work for her. Synergy ignored the shocked stares and the contemptuous glares around her and strode into her new supervisor's office.

She blinked in surprise as the door slid open to reveal the same white-colored mech that had defended her during her interview. He stood up, holding out his servo for her to shake. Synergy had to crane her neck up to look at him properly; he was large and tall and built like a tank.

"Synergy," He stated as he gave her servo a quick shake before pulling it back awkwardly, like he was unsure and unused to such polite gestures. His servos twitched by his sides, like he didn't quite know what to do with them, before quickly clasping them behind his back like a military man. "My name is Carillon and I'm the Head of the Department of Structural Engineering. I just want to say welcome and that I am looking forward to working with you." The words were just as stiff as his handshake. Synergy almost pitied the mech. He obviously had no idea how to interact with other bots.

Synergy flashed him her most charming smile. She knew she wouldn't have any trouble dealing with him. She had met many mechs like Carillon before- lonely losers who were too socially awkward to figure out how to make friends. All she had to do was reach out, be his friend, maybe flirt a little, give him hope that he might have a chance with her someday… Pretty soon she'd have more than just a foothold in this department. "I think I may be more excited than you about working here," she said with a light laugh. "I've always had a love for science."

"Yes, I see you've done some experiments of your own." His optics flickered over her form before refocusing on her face. Synergy swelled with pride.

"It was difficult replacing the old armor with the new, but I'm sure you can appreciate that," she answered.

"I do. In fact, given your experience in the subject, I would like for you to work on a special project for this department."

Synergy stood up tall and straight at that. "Are you serious?" She demanded.

Carillon nodded once. "We are attempting to integrate organic alt modes into protoforms."

"You mean like the Dinobots?"

"Not quite. Although the basic _shape_ of the Dinobots' forms emulated organic animals, they were still made of metal and circuits. Similar in how your structure resembles the basic shape of a human female, but in no way could be mistaken for one. No, what we are trying to do is to program protoforms into artificially creating real organic flesh for an alt mode, but still contain a true metal Cybertronian body underneath."

Synergy reeled. Organic and Technological together in one Cybertronian? And bots thought _she_ was obscene! "No one on Cybertron would go for it!"

Carillon winced. "This feature would obviously not be available for the common bot, but the High Council has commissioned this technology to be used exclusively by those in the military. It would certainly come in handy for explorers needing to blend in with an organic environment."

Synergy nodded. She could see the need for that.

Carillon smiled at her and for the first time it didn't look strained or forced. "A bot with an organic alt mode would need a structure similar to yours: curved and rounded. Sharp lines and edges would only damage the delicate tissue of an organic. You seem to be the expert on… curves." He ducked down, seemingly embarrassed by what he had said.

Synergy chuckled darkly at that.

* * *

"You're nothing but a liar."

Synergy sneered as she stepped out of the Center and came face to face with Vesper. "Don't you have a job you need to be going to? Oh, no, wait. That's right. I'm the one with the job. Go loiter somewhere else, will you? There's plenty of other places where you could panhandle for credits."

She made to shove past him, but the purple mech grabbed her arm and wrenched her back. Synergy snarled and turned around to deliver a hard punch into his face. Before she could, however, she heard Vesper whisper "I know you cheated on your research thesis."

They stood there for a beat, simply staring into each other's optics with Synergy's fist still half-raised in retaliation. Suddenly, Synergy started moving, pulling Vesper along behind her in a steely grip. She led him away from the Center, through Cybertron's sprawling metropolis, and into a dark alley where she hissed. "What in the Pit do you mean by that?"

Vesper shrugged his shoulders in an attempt to appear nonchalant, but the malicious smirk that spread across his face ruined the effect. "I did a little digging. It turns out that your armor modification specs-" Here he gestured at her body. "Bear a striking resemblance to specs created by a classmate of ours, a bot named Entropy."

"If you say so. I vaguely recall sitting next to him in a few classes." Synergy sighed with an air of projected boredom. It was a lie. She could remember Entropy quite clearly- a weak-willed, spineless mech who once offered to walk her to class. She had laughed all the way down the hall at that. "If you're implying that I stole my armor upgrade program from him then I'm afraid you're mistaken. From what I heard he could never get those specs to work. Didn't he end up doing his final thesis on elasticity or something? I don't know, it was boring, so I never bothered to pay attention."

"Oh, that's true," Vesper admitted. "But I find it strange that your final thesis on armor upgrades is almost exactly the same as Entropy's unsubmitted draft, nearly word for word in fact. The only thing different is the code: yours works and his doesn't. I think the university board will find it interesting too, don't you?"

Synergy clenched her servos. So he wanted to play with the big kids, did he? Synergy was going to _ruin_ him. "I _earned_ my position at the Center! I made those specs work! Entropy couldn't even get his head out of his own aft long enough to do a simple equation right!"

"Do you think that matters?" Vesper hissed. "The truth is you stole that idea and claimed it as your own. I've got a meeting with the board tomorrow and when I show them this they'll strip you of your credentials. You'll be a laughingstock. No scientific agency will hire you."

Synergy fumed and curled her digits against her palm, ready to pull back and strike, when a blue and pink femme bounced up beside Vesper. She linked their arms together and grinned up at him, bouncing on her pedes, before giving Synergy her attention. Synergy knew her. It was Vesper's little _girlfriend_. Stupid, simpering Lumina.

"What's going on?" Lumina asked, her optics just as big and wide as her smile.

Primus, she made Synergy sick to her coolant.

"I was just congratulating Synergy on her new job," Vesper lied smoothly. Lumina nodded her head emphatically at that.

"That's right! I heard about that! Congratulations!" Synergy didn't know whether to laugh or cry. The poor femme was actually _sincere_.

"Thanks," Synergy replied. "But I have to get going now."

For a second an unhappy frown marred the femme's face, but then just as suddenly she was grinning like a lunatic again. "Oh, okay, but we'll get together sometime, right?"

"Of course." What an _idiot_!

Synergy turned away and transformed, driving far away from Lumina's inane chatter. To think they used to share the same mold! … _The same mold_… Synergy nearly bumped into the bot in front of her as an idea began to form in her mind. She still had all the pieces of her armor, standard Femme Unit #3 with Car Alt Mode. The armor was mostly red and black – not pink and blue – but a new paint job was an easy fix and her upgrade program would make switching back and forth a breeze.

There was beauty in destruction, just as there was in circles.

* * *

Vesper felt happy for the first time in years.

He was finally going to bring Synergy down. Everyone had always just _adored_ Synergy. All day long he would hear bots gushing about how smart and beautiful she was. How could they be so blind? He was going to make the entire planet see her for what she truly was: a liar and a thief who didn't care about anything except for herself. She would step on anyone to get what she wanted; she'd probably even sell her own progenitor if someone offered her a high position in the government. And the way she _laughed_. Synergy didn't have any friends. Oh, there were bots who _thought_ they were friends with her – Vesper had once been one of those bots – but the only person Synergy liked was herself. Everyone else was just there to amuse her. They could be useful at times, but mostly she thought they were unimportant.

Thank Primus he had eventually seen the light or he'd still be caught in her web, playing her little games.

Vesper punched the code in for his small, one-bedroom unit. He wished he had the credit to move into something a bit nicer. _Once they fire Synergy they'll be looking for a new junior researcher_, Vesper thought with glee. _Maybe I'll get that unit after all._

The door slid open to reveal Lumina sitting in front of his computer terminal, typing away at the keyboard.

"Lumina?" He asked. She had never come over uninvited before. How did she even get pass the code?

At the sound of his voice she immediately switched off his computer and spun around in the chair, grinning widely at him. "You're finally here! You need to download more games to your computer. Chess is so boring."

"What are you doing here?"

Lumina pouted as she stood up and walked over to him, the gentle sway of her body hypnotizing him. This… was different. Lumina had never… swayed before. "I wanted to see you. The superintendent let me in when I told him I was your girlfriend."

"You're my girlfriend now?" His voice might have gone up a pitch. This was news. Not bad news. Good news. Great news even. Very, very surprising news though. They had been best friends for megacycles, but he had always been too shy to ask her out.

Lumina stood right in front of him, their chestplates nearly touching, optics peering coyly up at him. "Do you want me to be?"

Vesper floundered wildly, his processor screaming _'Say yes, you slagger!_' but for some reason his vocalize wouldn't work. Luckily, Lumina must have read something in his optics because she reached up to pull his head down for a kiss. He felt that pleasant electrical jolt at the touch of her lips.

Then he felt the slide of a panel opening up on the back of his helm and the click of something plugging into his port.

Lumina pulled away and smirked. He knew that smirk. He _hated_ that smirk.

"You!" He snarled. He reached out to push her away when he suddenly fell to the floor. _What did she do to me?_ He thought as he slowly slipped into stasis.

* * *

Vesper slowly awoke from recharge. He stared blankly up at his ceiling, wondering what he was supposed to be doing. Something important was supposed to happen today, but what was it? He couldn't remember.

Vesper glanced at his side and saw several bottles of high octane. Was he celebrating something? He remembered being happy. Vesper groaned as he pulled himself off of his berth. Whatever it was it couldn't have been that important. There were no reminders on his computer terminal, after all, no hints of what this mysterious task might be. Oh, well. It probably hadn't mattered anyway.

Vesper left his unit and began to make his way down the street. He could see Synergy walking in the opposite direction, the curves of her hips calling attention wherever she went. Oh, Primus. He couldn't be bothered to deal with her today. She glanced up at him as they passed, that damnable smirk firmly in place, but he refused to engage. Neither one paused in their walk and he could hear her laugh as she went.

Synergy chuckled to herself as she entered the Center bright and early for a new day at work. She loved this job. She was never going to let anyone take it away from her. This was her dream.

"You're in a good mood," Carillon commented as he came up beside her.

"I had a good day yesterday," she replied.

The older bot nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, I saw you enter that young mech's unit. What was his name? V-something. Was it a date?"

Synergy snapped her head around to stare at him, her mouth opening and closing as she thought of something to say. _How did he know?_ Carillon looked down at her with a calculating gleam in his optics. "Although I am curious as to why you were disguised. Now that I think about it, it was all very strange." Synergy could see the slight smile tugging at his lips. This was not the awkward, harmless mech she thought she knew. This was a bot who knew what he was doing.

Carillon shrugged. "Of course, if you don't want me to say anything, I won't. Primus knows this facility is full of nothing but gossips."

Synergy nodded her head. "Yes," she whispered. "Don't tell."

He smiled and leaned down to whisper conspiratorially, "It'll be our little secret." Synergy could hear the threat in his voice. He'd keep her secret, but at what cost? What could he possibly want? Then he straightened up and began to walk towards his office before stopping and looking back at her. "You know, I think we're going to make a great team."


	3. Chapter 3

**Cherchez la Femme**

_Chapter 3_

Synergy balanced her soldering torch upright in her palm, swaying her servo in time to the wobbling in an attempt to keep it from crashing to the ground.

"This might go faster if you actually _helped_," Carillon muttered from where he was hunched over one of the computer terminals. He looked ridiculous like that, a large mech like him staggering over a terminal obviously built for a much smaller bot. She knew his model: Mech Unit #2, Armored Vehicle Alt Mode. No wonder he couldn't find a desk in his size; his structure was practically old-fashioned. It was one of the first to be created after the Great Upgrade and as a consequence still sported features typical of the Autobot/Decepticon era: large, heavily armored, and war-like. Although cutting edge when it first came out, those old structures consumed more energon than the typical Maximal body of today. The Council had long since decommissioned them for not reaching government standards. Not many factories made many of those bodies anymore. At least, not on Cybertron. She wondered what backwater mining colony Carillon had crawled out off.

"You're running simulations," Synergy drawled out. "What exactly are we suppose to do other than watch the numbers crunch? Besides, I already told you- _it won't work_. No matter how you manipulate it, the hardware cannot generate anything that resembles living tissue. We need to focus on encoding DNA into the actual software. That's the only way I can see this working."

Carillon ignored her in favor of continuing to stare at his screen.

Synergy rolled her optics and continued playing with her torch only to give out a startled yelp when it finally fell, landing on her ped. Synergy reached down to pick it back up when Carillon's secretary came rushing in. "The Director is coming! He wants to-" But before she could say anything else the same red and black mech from her interview entered the laboratory with a scowl on his face. It was Airwing, the Head Director for the entire Center. Synergy always felt that same creeping envy run through her wires at the sight of him. _Head Director of the Center of Research and Development_… it was a title she wanted for herself.

Synergy suspected that her hiring had more to do with Carillon than Airwing from the way he had voiced his disgust at her form during her interview. Even now Airwing showed his disapproval by steadfastly ignoring her as though her very existence offended him. "Carillon," he began. "I thought you said I would have the first designs by today."

"We're running simulations now," Carillon replied. Synergy shot Carillon a calculating glance at the seemingly awkward and inelegant mech. Looking at him now she wouldn't think him capable of blackmail. He was hunched over, bending his large form forward so that he would have to look up at the Director when in reality Carillon towered over him and could crush his helm between his servos without much effort. No wonder Airwing liked him. All that power, and yet Carillon seemed so meek and submissive. If only the Director knew what she knew. Ever since she had caught a glimpse of that sly, devious mech that lay beneath the mask she had been trying to find it again, looking for the little clues that would tell her just what kind of mech he really was. It was a mystery, one she didn't like hanging over her head.

"Yes, we'll be done soon," Synergy said as she canted her hips to lean against the desk, looking all the world like she wasn't bothered by the way Airwing avoided looking at her. "I am positive that these simulations will show that integrating DNA into the software will produce the desired results."

The sounds of Carillon's servos gliding across the holographic screens came to a sudden stop. She bit back a chuckle at the thoughts that must be racing through her superior's processor. He must be panicking by now.

Airwing acted as though he hadn't heard a word she had said, but Synergy knew that wasn't the case. "I expect results within the next cycle," the Director stated before turning sharply on his heel and marching through the door.

Synergy could feel the full heat of Carillon's glare on the back of her neck without even needing to turn around. Livid, silent, and threatening… not qualities she would have guessed he possessed when first meeting him. This was Carillon. The real Carillon. The mech switched off the console and stormed over to the drafting table and just like that he was gone again. Synergy frowned at the angry, pouting expression and wide, hurt optics. She couldn't help getting confuses. Was this the act? Did he really possess the chrome bearings to blackmail her, or was it just the idle threat of someone with little power who had been kicked around too many times? "You knew that's not what the simulations were about," He whined. "Now I'll have to scrap the entire thing before it's even finished just so I can start on your idea and have it completed on time."

"But it'll be worth it when you give him a working code."

Carillon snorted. "We'll see."

Synergy smiled and flicked a wrist in the direction of her desk. "You'll find the equations already done and in there, ready to be run through the simulator." Carillon looked up in surprise, clearly not expecting for most of the work to have already been completed. Synergy grinned sweetly. Like a shark. "I'm going out for energon. See you later." Synergy sauntered out of the lab and into the common offices of the Department of Structural Engineering.

As soon as she walked out she found herself ducking quickly behind the desk of Carillon's secretary. The femme looked down at her in bemusement. "What are you doing?"

Synergy jabbed her in the leg with a digit. "Quiet, you." The last thing she expected to see when she left the laboratory was Airwing lingering outside the door to chat with one of the scientists. What was the Director supposed to think if he saw her leaving the lab in the middle of the afternoon when there was a deadline? He already didn't like her; he didn't need an excuse to fire her. Synergy sighed as she leaned back against the desk, making sure to poke the secretary every time she accidentally kicked her. "Ow," Synergy muttered at a particularly brutal retaliatory dig from the femme. If Airwing didn't finish up she and the secretary were going to end up causing another Great War. What on Cybertron could they be talking about?

Synergy strained to hear what they were saying, but they were speaking too softly. All she could hear were snatches about "surprising results" and the letter "X". Synergy peeked around the corner of the desk to get a better look, but she didn't recognize the mech he was talking to. He was tall and lanky and long-limbed; a flier of some type. They spoke for a few seconds more and then they were gone, leaving in opposite directions. Synergy crawled out of her hiding spot and dusted off the metal.

"I knew the Director had it in for you, but I didn't think it was _that_ bad!" The secretary commented, giving her a knowing smirk.

Synergy chose to ignore the comment and focus on what she was most curious about. "Who was that he was talking to?"

The other femme shrugged. "I'm not sure. Burn something or another. He's a freelancer, so he really only comes in this department to pick up specs."

Interesting. "Thanks for your help, Glitchy." Synergy waved and headed out, not bothering to look back when she heard the secretary call out to her.

"That is not my name! Stop calling me that!"

* * *

It didn't take long for Synergy to pin down the mysterious freelancer. His name was apparently Burnout, although she never met anyone who actually had actually talked to him beyond a polite 'hello'. No one knew anything about him. All anyone could seem to agree on was his name, but nothing else. Not what he did for the Center or why he was a freelancer and not an actual employee, nothing. Of course, if anyone really wanted to find out anything about his past it wasn't that hard to look up. It was all available for public record, but then he didn't seem to have any friends at the Center so why would they care?

Synergy cared, although she couldn't explain why if someone asked her. He was important to Airwing, which made him important to her. She discovered that Burnout wasn't just some freelancer who did odd jobs for the Director, but a well-respected scientist currently on an indefinite sabbatical. In fact, he was considered for the post of Head of Structural Engineering some years ago before Carillon was chosen to replace the old department head. Why go from being a preeminent scientist on the fast track to a recluse who _freelanced_? It didn't make any sense to Synergy. If she had been in Burnout's position she wouldn't have backed down; she wouldn't have latched on to the power and held on tight.

What really surprised the femme was that Burnout wasn't the only strange and yet highly competent freelancer working for the Center. Why skip over all these bots – who had megacycles of experience on Synergy – and yet hire her? It didn't make sense. Perhaps these freelancers wanted more time to spend with their sparklings or perhaps they earned more credits as an independent worker. The only way to find out was to do a little investigating.

The results were even more surprising. She couldn't say for sure that the other freelancers merely wanted less hours, but Burnout at least had no mate or sparkling attached to his name. He was as single as she was with no prospects in either his personal or professional life. As for the questions regarding pay, that was a little harder to find out. Employee pay stub records were password-encrypted; not that it stopped Synergy from hacking into the system and scrolling through files and files of personnel records. It had been laughably easy to break in. Really, in a building full of scientists and technicians, she expected the Record Office to have better security measures.

After spending a few good clicks fuming over the fact that Glitchy was making more than her, Synergy began a search for the elusive Burnout. She didn't find him.

She double-checked the files before branching out into other departments. Maybe his work wasn't limited to structural engineering?

Nothing.

Burnout wasn't on the payroll, which meant the Head Director was paying him under the table. Synergy reeled back in surprise. It was illegal, of course; every worker had to be documented not only for tax reasons, but also to ensure that the Predacons remained in the careers the government had designated for them. They obviously couldn't have a Predacon working in a government agency like the Center. It was a major security breach. But Burnout wasn't a Predacon, so why all the secrecy?

Sometimes the direct approach was often the best. Well, in about as direct as Synergy ever got when it came to her schemes.

"You're a freelancer, right? I don't mean to be nosy, I've just seen you around a few times and was wondering," Synergy said as she stepped up to the tall mech and looked up at him with a coy smile. She bounced slightly on her pedes, emphasizing her small figure in an attempt to appear cuter. "Cute" was not a card Synergy liked to play; if she was going to seduce a mech she wanted to be sexy and mysterious, not _cute_. But from Burnout's stuttering and wildly gesturing servos Synergy thought that the mech might suffer a valve attack if she came on too strong.

"W-well, yes, I suppose- but, I mean, we're not called that. Not really anyway. I-I think they call us independent contractors, now," he said with a wan smile. _Poor bot_, Synergy thought. _He really has no idea how to talk to femmes, does he?_

"What do you do, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Oh, oh, well, just… things. I do things."

Synergy couldn't help but smile for real at that. It was kind of adorable in a pathetic way. She doubted this mech had ever even interfaced with someone before. "Things, huh?" She asked. "Sounds fascinating. I'd love to talk more about that. I'm a scientist too, you know. Maybe over a glass of high octane? I know the perfect place."

Burnout waved his servos frantically, a look of utter panic on his face. "Oh! No! I can't! I'm not really allowed to t-talk about Project- the projects I'm working on with anyone."

Synergy laughed and slipped her arm around his. "That's good, because I didn't actually want to talk about that. Work was the excuse, not the reason why I wanted to go with you to a bar."

"Oh? W-what was the reason then?"

"For a date, of course!"

For a moment the poor mech looked so lost and bewildered. "You mean with me?"

Synergy snorted. "No, with the other tall flier that I was just talking to. Have you seen him?"

Burnout actually looked around at that! Synergy physically began to pull him out the door, laughing loudly all the way.

* * *

"No, no! Rita Hayworth was a human female. An actress, to be exact," Synergy explained as she finished off her drink. Burnout politely sipped at his, but it never got below the half-mark. This was their third "date" and she had yet to see him wasted on high octane.

"I-I'm sorry, I just don't know much about human music," he replied sheepishly.

"Film."

"Film, I-I mean."

Synergy laughed. "Well, look at me taking over the entire conversation- _again_. If this conversation was a planet with energon, I would be the Decepticon."

Burnout ducked down. "Th-that's okay. I mean, I kinda like to hear you t-talk."

Synergy smiled and folded her arms on top of the table. "Come on, tell me more about yourself."

"There's r-really not much to say," Burnout said with a shrug. "Mostly I just work a lot."

"You have to have time off eventually. Do you read any?"

"M-mostly just historical records on the Great War, but even that is for work."

There it was. Burnout wasn't a sloppy drunk; he didn't spilled his secrets over a glass of high octane. Nor was he the talkative type who couldn't be trusted with the morning gossip, much less top secret projects conducted by the government. But even he couldn't help but allow a few small things slip out. So far, Synergy knew that Burnout was working on something called Project X and that it had something to do with the Maximal Elders. Now she had this little nugget. So, it involved the Great War? Was one of the scientists a former Autobot soldier? Maybe it had to do with the Hate Plague?

No use speculating until she had more information.

Still, whatever it was, it was _important_. All records involving the Great War were sealed. The only thing she knew about the war was what was told to her by her teachers. Synergy couldn't help but wonder if the government had tried to bury any information about the Great War. "Real history buff, huh?" She asked before glancing around to flag down a waitress for another drink.

That's when she saw it. She had noticed the bot earlier, of course. He was sitting right across from them, after all. He was alone and reading something on his datapad, not bothering to pay attention to the people around them. They had come in at the same time, which was at least three cycles ago. All this time and he was still working on his first glass of octane. Burnout himself had yet to order a second drink, but that was because he always ordered the same as she. He didn't want to be a _bother_ to the waitress by making her get two different kind of beverages and was too shy and timid to tell Synergy that he didn't like high octane. This mech, though, was alone. He didn't need to try to impress anybody and if he didn't like high octane then there were much better places to go and do some reading. Come to think of it, she didn't remember seeing him scroll down on his pad at all. Was he just reading the same paragraph over and over again?

Synergy tried to push it out of her processor, to convince herself that it had nothing to do with them. But when he got up to leave mere seconds after they did she began to have doubts.


	4. Chapter 4

**Cherchez la Femme**

_Chapter 4_

It had been three weeks since Synergy had last seen Burnout. He hadn't been around to the Center, her calls went unanswered, and he had no family or friends – other than her – to care about what had happened to him. To be honest, she was starting to get a little worried about him. He was an earnest bot and she liked that about him; he was almost adorable in a pathetic sort of a way. Burnout wasn't the type of bot that should get mixed up in scandal and intrigue. That was _her_ sort of thing. But him? He should be tucked away in a lab and kept somewhere safe. He needed to be protected and damn it all if Synergy didn't feel a tug on her valve pump.

This was why Synergy cursed herself and him to the Pit and back as she hacked into the lock on Burnout's apartment.

With a muttered 'ha!' the door slid open. Synergy took one last look around the hall, but there was no one there. Even if there was, Burnout's neighbors didn't strike her as the kind of bots who would care one way or another. Synergy slipped through the door and adjusted her optics to the darkness. With the exception of stacks and stacks of electronic pads sitting in a corner and spread out over the tables, the apartment was fairly clean and empty. She noted that one of the chairs was lying on its side from where it had been tipped over. How strange. Why wouldn't he put it right? Why just leave it there?

There was a soft rustling sound and Synergy felt herself tense all over. "Burnout?" She called softly, but there was no answer. Cautiously, she approached the back room where she had heard the noise. The door slid open but before Synergy could so much as take a step inside she felt herself being yanked across the threshold as a servo clamped hard over her mouth.

"You try to escape and I won't hesitate to shoot you, understand?" A voice whispered next to her audio.

She had barely nodded her head before she felt the mech push her away, leaving her sprawling on top of Burnout's berth. She pulled herself into a sitting position as a light flicked on, illuminating the mech that had attacked her. It was the same bot she had seen in the bar weeks ago. She hadn't caught sight of him since, but whenever she was out in the city she had felt that prickly sort of sensation one always got when they knew they were being watched. "Who are you?" She demanded. "Why have you been following me?"

The mech ignored her in favor of dragging a chair over in front of the berth so that he could sit across from her. "I'm going to ask you a series of questions and you're going to answer truthfully," he stated, not bothering to dignify her with a reply.

Synergy let out a laugh. "Say it again. Maybe this time I'll get _scared_." In truth, she _was_ scared, but she wasn't going to let him know it.

"It'll be better for you to answer the questions here rather than at the station," the mech replied casually, flashing a badge that read 'Longshot – Peace Marshall'. "Suspects tend to get a little banged up while in custody."

Synergy ground her dentals together and folded her arms. "Fine. Ask away."

"You were born and raised on Cybertron?"

"Of course. I'm sure you've already ran me through the system."

Longshot shrugged nonchalantly. "Those documents can be faked."

"And if you really suspected that I would already be in jail, not sitting here having this _lovely_ conversation with you."

Longshot smirked at that. "Ever been to the Predacon colonies?"

"No."

"Do you know anyone has ever been to the colonies?"

"_No_."

"Do ever visit the Predacon quarter here on Cybertron?"

Synergy threw up her servos in frustration. "Yes. Yes, because I know I really enjoy a good mugging. Seriously? Do you think I'm an idiot? Why would I ever step one ped in those slums? Preds don't build femme-type bodies. Not when they could build more war machines. I'd stick out like a sore digit if I went there."

"You're right. They don't make femmes," Longshot agreed. "Which is why they only build them to spy on Maximals. We would never expect a femme of being a Predacon. It's the perfect cover."

Synergy felt her coolant tank sink. They thought she was a spy? "Why would you think I was a Predacon?" She demanded.

"We intercepted scrambled messages to the Predacon colonies that originated from the Center. We've discovered that they contain information on some of our top secret scientific breakthroughs. You work at the Center, your co-workers describe you as ambitious, nosy and a loner. The only bots you are seen talking to regularly are your immediate supervisor Carillon and a former scientist named Burnout. Only now Burnout seems to have gone missing. Isn't that strange?" There was damnable smirk again. Synergy was tempted to wipe it off his face.

"I don't know what happened to Burnout!" Synergy snapped. "That's why I broke in here! He wasn't answering any of my calls or messages! I was _worried_ about him. And you're mistaken; Burnout wasn't a _former_ scientist. He's a freelancer at the Center."

That knocked the wind out his sails. "A _freelancer_?" Longshot asked. "He's not registered at the Center. There's nothing to document him working there. I was under the impression that he had left his former job and turned into a recluse."

"I met him at the Center and he was always doing some sort of research. I'm telling you he worked there," she insisted. "Go take a look at all those data pads in the main room. I'm sure at least _one_ of them contains his notes."

Longshot narrowed his optics. "I have looked. They're all blank."

Synergy felt her jaw drop. "What?"

"What sort of work did he do?"

"I don't know. He never told me. He said he couldn't, that it was top secret." She did know a few things, but there was no way she was going to tell him that. Those were her hard-earned secrets.

Longshot leaned back into the chair. His mouth was turned down in a sharp frown as he thought everything over. Things were clearly more complicated than they seemed. "I believe you had nothing to do with the messages-"

Synergy couldn't stop the soft sigh that escaped from her mouth.

"But officially I'm still going to be investigating you."

She nearly choked on her own glossa at that. "What?! Why?!"

"Because something is going on at the Center and I need to find out what it is." Longshot leaned forward, his optics boring into hers. "I need someone on the inside and you're going to help to me. If not, I'll have you arrested. Is that understood?"

Synergy slowly nodded. Why did mechs always seem to think they could control her? They all thought they could play her like an instrument. Idiots. If they wanted to play the game, she would play with them. And she was going to win.

* * *

"What did you _do_?" Carillon's secretary hissed the moment Synergy walked into work the next day.

Synergy opened her mouth to ask what was going on in that simple little processor of hers when the femme latched on to her arm and physically dragged her into the nearest supply closet. "What do you think you're doing, Glitchy?" She demanded, hoping to get a rise out of the other femme with the insult.

The secretary just ignored her however and looked up at her with wide, scared optics. "Airwing wants you _gone_. Early this morning he told me to keep a close optic on you and to find something that he could use to fire you for. Even make up something if I had to. He promised me a bonus and a promotion if I did this. What did you do to make him so angry?"

Synergy reeled back at the information. What did she do? Did he hear about Longshot's investigation? No, if he had that would already be more than enough reason to fire her. Not to mention there would be no way Longshot would let slip any details regarding his operation. Did it have to do with Burnout? Burnout had mentioned that the Director didn't like the freelancers to interact with the regular staff. Maybe Airwing was worried Burnout had let something slip? Was that the reason behind his disappearance? Synergy gave the other femme a searching look. "Why are you telling me this? I'd figured you'd only be too glad to see me go. Not to mention the credits you'd get."

The femme actually looked insulted at that. "I don't like you. The truth is you're a horrible person. You're mean and condescending, but you're also a good worker and, more importantly, I am _not_ a liar. I'm not going to get you fired just to get a promotion because it's the _wrong thing to do_."

How odd. Synergy wouldn't have had any problem selling her out to climb the ladder, still… it was nice to know that at least one person wouldn't betray her no matter the price. It was… comforting. "Thanks," she mumbled, not entirely sure what she should say. "I'll see you around… Ion."

Ion beamed at her. "You're welcome."

Synergy nodded mutely and quickly ducked out of the closet in an attempt to get as much space between her and the other femme as possible. She slipped into the lab where Carillon was already hunched over Synergy's codes on the organic project. "This is truly a remarkable piece of work," Carillon muttered as Synergy walked up to him. "This design might be the key to manipulating protoforms in ways we never could before. We could change bots with car alt modes into fliers. We might even be able to manipulate it so that the armor the protoform develops could be almost indestructible. We wouldn't be limited to the pre-packaged coding found in protoforms. You wouldn't have had to alter your armor if you'd come up with this earlier," he said, gesturing to her body. "All you would need to do is regress back to a protoform and you could have turned yourself into anything you wanted. No limitations."

"Carillon, we need to talk." Normally she would have loved to bask in the praise, but right now there were too many things going on. "Airwing is doing everything he can to get rid of me and Burnout is missing."

For the first time that day Carillon stood up and actually looked at her. "I can help you with Airwing, but I'm not exactly sure what you expect me to do about Burnout. Besides, why do you care?"

Synergy spluttered. "What do you mean by that?! He was my friend!"

Carillon shook his head sadly. "You don't have any friends. You only see that could be useful to you; all the rest might as well be invisible. You'd make an excellent Predacon."

_That_ stung and after Longshot had accused her of being one it hit a little too close to home. "Well, Burnout _was_ my friend and I'm worried about him," she insisted. "And what would you know about it anyway? You don't have any friends either. Not real ones, at least. You like to pretend you're nice and simple and unassuming, but in reality you're just as cold and calculating as I am."

Carillon shrugged lightly at that. "That's true, I suppose. Look, don't take the blackmail personally. It's just I recognize talent when I see it and you have it. You're going to reach the top and when you do I don't want you to forget about me." Carillon regarded her for a few moments more before gesturing to a chair. "Let's see if we can't get to the bottom of this mystery. Airwing has never cared for you. Why do you think this attempt to fire you has anything to do with Burnout?"

Synergy took the chair that was offered and leaned forwardly excitedly. "Burnout was working on a top secret assignment called Project X. He worked directly for Airwing and was paid under the table; there is no documentation that he was ever employed here. I think that Airwing was worried Burnout would let something slip so he got rid of him and now he wants to make sure I stay as far away from the Center as possible."

Carillon looked impressed. "I've heard about Project X. No specifics, or anything, just a brief mention of the name here and there before." He suddenly stopped talking and gave her a cool, searching look. "If you really want to try to find out about this I have a meeting with Airwing to go over these specs. He'll be away from his office for cycles. I can give the code to get past the security and locks, but you'll have to hack his computer yourself."

"Hacking is easy," Synergy said with a wave of her servo, brushing off any concerns. "What I want to know is why you would risk everything to do this?"

Carillon shrugged again. "I'm as curious as you are. Besides, I'm not taking any risks, _you_ are. You could implicate me if you're caught, sure, but the punishment for erasing a bot's memory is much more severe than a simple breaking and entering."

"You got me there."

Carillon smirked. "Be ready in a few cycles."

* * *

Synergy adjusted her old armor and reached for the key code on Airwing's office door. No one had recognized her in her old armor and the fact that it was still painted up to look like Lumina ensured that no one would ever link the break in to her. She punched in the code and walked inside, admiring the amazing view from the window that took up the entire back wall. It was stunning; she could see across the planet-wide city spreading out into the horizon. Airwing was definitely a mech of taste. His office was filled with lavish decoration and expensive early Cybertronian artifacts. Synergy moved over to the desk that was seated directly in front of the window. She sat down and gazed out the window; this was where he commanded his army of scientists. And one day it would be her's.

Synergy chuckled darkly to herself as she spun the chair around and got to work on the computer's security measures.

It took longer than she suspected. Whoever had designed the computer's firewall knew what they were doing. It took her at least a cycle before she could get through. There was no way to tell how long the meeting would take, but she suspected she didn't have much time left. She did a quick search through, glancing at the various projects that Airwing kept secret from the public until she found the one marked 'X'.

She took a fleeting look through the documents as she downloaded the files onto an external hard drive. A few words took her notice, words like _Great War_ and _Allspark_. Two names kept popping up as well- _Starscream_ and _Wingnut_. Wingnut was unknown to her, but of course she knew who Starscream was. He had been Megatron's traitorous second-in-command and was held up by the Maximals as the prime example of the aggression and disloyalty that was so typical of the Decepticon and Predacon race. Why would the Center – and by extension the Maximal Council – need information on Starscream?

The computer informed her that the download was complete and without a second thought Synergy pulled out the datachip.

This prompted the computer to initiate a ten-click countdown.

It had been Synergy's experience that countdowns rarely ever ended in parties, balloons, and a never ending supply of credits which was why she immediately grabbed hold of the chair and hurled it out of the window, shattering the glass upon impact. Ten clicks was not enough to time to make it out the door and clear of the blast, so she leapt out of the window onto the ledge. While she could admire the cityscape from safely _inside_ the building, it was another matter to be looking down onto it while perched precariously on the _outside_. Synergy began to shimmy across the ledge while still holding on to the datachip as she counted down inside her own processor.

_4… 3… 2… 1.._

Synergy held on tight as fire erupted from the window, shattering whatever was left of the glass. She could feel the blistering heat beside her, but the building itself remained as strong and unyielding as ever. The explosion would have been localized, leaving the rest of the building intact and safe. Synergy pressed on as she heard sirens blaring down below, carefully picking her way along the building. She pushed open the first window she came across and tumbled inside, landing gracelessly on her aft. She nearly laughed when she figured out where she had landed. The little pink sign on the door proudly declared itself a _Femme Buffing Room_.

Synergy shakily stood up and looked at her reflection. She could see one side of her face had been blackened with soot. She reached into her compartment to place the datachip and pulled out her personal buffer. Well, that's what the room was for, wasn't it?

In a few minutes her face looked as sleek and shiny as it was before, and not a minute too soon. A security guard burst through the door and leveled a blaster at her. Synergy raised her servos, one of them still clutching the buffer.

"What are you doing in here?" He demanded.

"I was just buffing my nose!" She answered in a scared, girlish voice. "I thought I heard an explosion! Was there an accident?"

The guard sighed and waved her through the door. "It's classified. We need to clear all personnel. Let's move."

Synergy kept her head down as she raced out, hoping he wouldn't see her smirk.


	5. Chapter 5

**Cherchez la Femme**

_Chapter 5_

Synergy cursed quietly to herself as she scanned through the contents of the disk. She sat hunched over her personal computer in her small unit, acutely aware that she had already been at this for eight cycles straight as her joints protested against the treatment. The booby trap she had inadvertently set off not only blew up Airwing's computer but had also managed to corrupt many of the files. It was difficult work trying to salvage what was left, but she had gotten hold of some rather interesting material. Several files mentioned experiments performed on Cybertronian sparks- both Maximal and Predacon. No wonder the Center wanted to keep this quiet. The mere idea was revolting. It left her shuddering as an icy, clammy feeling squeezed her coolant. What they had done… it was _unholy_. But why? What were they doing to them? What did they hope to accomplish? A part of her whispered that she didn't want to know, that this was too deep for her to get involved in. Burnout was missing, what's to say she wouldn't be next? But that curious part of her that just had to know couldn't be satisfied. And the danger? She could admit that there was a certain, exhilarating thrill to it. Electricity hummed through her structure at the thought. The Center was out to get her, the police were watching her, and she had in her servos information that could destroy lives. That was power. And it was hers. She just needed to know more.

The only clue she had about these experiments was a name- Wingnut. One file recorded him as being involved with the experiments, but most of the information had been lost. A general search across the Cybertronian server had revealed him to be a Maximal and a petty thief, one who had run with a two-bit Predacon gang until they betrayed him to save their own afts. He'd been sent to the Stockade, but had been paroled after helping out with some government work. The file didn't say what exactly that work entailed, though it did list his current address.

Synergy nearly jumped out of her shell when her alarm went off. She groaned at that. It was time for work. Her joints squeaked pitifully as she pulled herself away from her computer and stretched. She had a big day today.

* * *

The moment she stepped inside the laboratory she knew something was wrong.

Carillon was already hunched over the schematics for their new organic alt-mode program. It wasn't unexpected to see him there so early; Synergy often wondered if he ever bothered to go home. He was very intense and serious about his work. This time, however, he seemed distracted. When he heard her approach he looked up and the expression on his face could only be described as _pity_.

Synergy felt her coolant tank drop.

"What's going on?" She demanded.

"You haven't heard?" He asked softly. "It's your… _friend_. Burnout. They found his body late last night. I'm sorry. I know you were worried about him-"

Synergy suddenly realized that she needed to sit down now. Her coding seemed to be on a loop. Her processor wasn't getting the right feedback. Yes, that was it. She didn't hear what she just thought she heard. It was an error. Error. Error. Error.

Synergy slid into the stool across from Carillon's work bench before she ended up on the floor. "How?" She asked.

Carillon shook his head. "No one knows for sure what happened, but his face and serial number had been burnt off. Someone went to a lot of trouble to hide his identity. The Peace Marshalls wouldn't have figured it out who he was if it hadn't been for a neighbor who'd been able to pick out his armor."

Synergy put her head in her servos and took deep steadying breaths. She couldn't believe that only a few cycles ago she had been _excited_ about this strange little mystery she had found herself in. She had known – she had always known – that it was likely Burnout was dead. But in her dreams she had always imagined him alive, standing next to her as she exposed Airwing's secret experiments and took over the Center as Head Director herself. It all seemed so childish to her now. Burnout was dead because of this. Because of _her_.

"There's more."

Synergy looked back up and narrowed her optics as Carillon grimaced. "Airwing is convinced that you had something to do with the break-in to his office."

"How did he figure it out?"

"He didn't," Carillon replied with a shrug. "He's just becoming more and more paranoid. And he hates you. The security footage could have shown Optimus Prime himself hacking his computer and he would _still_ think you had something to do with it. Be careful. Airwing… he isn't acting normal."

Synergy nodded and stood up. "I'm taking the day off. Thank you for telling me this."

For a second Carillon hesitated, but then he seemed to find some inner resolve because he suddenly sat up straight and looked her squarely in the optics. "I know we haven't exactly trusted one another. We both have our own agendas. But, even if we're not friends, I'd like us to be allies."

"I think I'm going to need all the help I can get," Synergy muttered.

* * *

Synergy looked up at the old, decrepit building. It was situated on the edge of the Predacon slums, but still outside the really bad part of town. She took a deep intake and pushed inside, noting the tarnish on the walls and the unpleasant odors that seemed to permeate throughout the entire building. This was not the sort of place she wanted to be in, but she had to find this Wingnut. Synergy searched through the halls, trying to find his unit. There were a few rough-looking bots loitering about, although thank Primus they mostly kept to themselves. It appeared that her rounded-armor confused them. They didn't know whether to leer at her or pull back in disgust.

Synergy heaved out a sigh when she finally spotted the unit she had been looking for. The number on the door was mostly faded, but still legible. With a sharp knock Synergy stood outside, waiting to be let in.

When the door finally slid open she was surprised to find herself standing face-to-face with a femme no older than herself. She was mostly green and black and had tired-looking blue optics. She wouldn't have been bad-looking if it weren't for the perpetual scowl on her face.

"Yes?" She barked out. "What do you want?"

Synergy wouldn't deny she felt a little put-off by her. She had never really interacted much with other femmes; she didn't like them and they didn't like her. Other femmes were always so obsessed about silly things like being nice or playing by the rules. Things that wouldn't get them anywhere in life. Synergy had ambition and she wasn't afraid of doing whatever was necessary to reach the top. Besides, mechs were so much easier to manipulate than femmes. Synergy put on her most charming smile, the one she often used to make mechs weak in the knee joints, and hoped it worked better on her than it did on other femmes. "Hello, my name is Lumina and I work for the _Cybertron Chronicle_. I was wondering if I could have a moment of your time?"

The femme suddenly became tense and Synergy could see the strain in her digits as her grip the doorframe hardened. She started to worry that the other femme might end up denting it. "What for?" She demanded.

"I'm looking for a bot named Wingnut, actually. I'm doing an expose on Cybertron's Stockades and I'd like to interview him."

The femme let out a short laugh at that, the sound harsh and grating. "I don't know what you expect to get out of him, but come on in."

She stepped aside and allowed Synergy to enter the tiny, filthy unit. Her eyes fell on a tall, thin mech sitting motionlessly on a chair. He didn't turn to look at her as she stepped inside; instead, his optics remained fixed at a spot on the wall just above the window. He didn't move, didn't speak, and didn't seem to even realize that there were other bots in the room. "My name is Battalion and this is my progenitor, Wingnut," the other femme said as she came to stand behind him, placing her servo on his shoulder. He didn't even notice.

"What happened?" Synergy asked.

"That's what I'd like to know," Battalion muttered darkly. "I was told by the guards that my progenitor was doing some sort of work for the government and that he'd get an early release. I kept asking them when and they'd always just say 'soon.' Then, one day, they showed up at my unit with him… like this… They said he was only a few days away from getting released when he got into a fight with another inmate. There was considerable damage; too much to be repaired. Then they just left and I haven't heard from them since."

"You don't believe the story?" Synergy asked.

"Look." She traced scars along Wingnut's armor. Thin, barely noticeable scars like someone had cut him open and then welded the metal back together again. They had obviously been made by an expert professional, not the sort of hack doctor one would expect to find in the Stockade. Battalion showed her the perfect straight lines running down his chassis, just above his spark, and along the edges of his helm where his processor was housed. "Just a little too neat for it to be the handiwork of some lowlife criminal with a homemade shank, don't you think?"

* * *

Synergy left the unit feeling shaken and disturbed. She quickly hurried down the street and activated her personal comm unit, issuing the command number to connect her to a certain Peace Marshall. "Longshot?" She asked as soon as she heard his gruff 'Hello?'

"Ah, Synergy. Have you got any information for me?" Synergy could hear the smugness in his voice.

"I know who your spy is," she said. _That_ shut him up. "His name is Airwing. He's the Head Director at the Center of Research and Development."

She wasn't one hundred percent certain that Longshot's spy was her boss, but as far as she was concerned only a Pred could do something like experiment on sparks. Besides, Synergy found that she didn't much care if Airwing was a loyal Maximal or not, so long as he wound up dead or imprisoned. She knew he had something to do with Burnout's death and she was going to make him pay for it.


	6. Chapter 6

**Cherchez la Femme**

_Chapter 6_

Synergy lingered outside the Department of Law Enforcement. She was clutching a datapad to her chassis and glancing discreetly at the bots that drove past her, wondering what they could be doing here. Were they thugs sent by Airwing? Was she going to end up like Burnout? She tried to appear like she was just passing time, as unconcerned and unflappable as ever. She doubted her ability to pull it off at the moment. This wasn't like all the other times before when she had to pull her attitude around her like a shield. Nobody was jeering at her form or patronizing her because of her gender. She was involved in something _dangerous_. She had done things that were illegal before, things that might get her thrown in the Stockade for a megacycle or two at the most, but nothing like _this_.

She just hoped this wouldn't come back to bite her in the aft.

Synergy perked up when she saw Longshot exit the building. Then she noticed the deep scowl and angry way he was clenching his servos and she knew it was bad news. He stormed over to her and roughly grabbed her by her elbow joint, hissing at her to "Come on."

Longshot pulled her into a dark alley, all the while checking to make sure they weren't being followed. "What happened? Is Airwing going to be arrested?" Synergy demanded.

Longshot shook his head. "I didn't even get to so much as _suggest_ an investigation before the Maximal Elders shut me down. They threatened me with suspension if I slandered Airwing's good name again. Whatever that fragger is up to, he's got the entire Council eating out of the palm of his servo." He looked disgusted with the very thought. "I didn't believe your story when you first brought it to me," the mech admitted. "I still don't know if he's a traitor, but something about this isn't right."

"Well, this may help," Synergy held up the datapad. "This contains the pass codes and information we need to gain access to Airwing's personal laboratory."

Longshot shook his head. "I can't do that. Not without a warrant, at least. It wouldn't matter what we found, we couldn't use it against him in court."

She hadn't known that. "You had a warrant to go inside Burnout's unit?"

"No, but the bot hadn't been seen for some time. It was just cause."

Synergy grinned up at the mech. "Well, if you happen to get an anonymous tip that someone – say a smart and incredibly sexy femme, for instance – was breaking into a high-security laboratory then you'd have to stop her, right? Wouldn't that be just cause? And if you happened to find evidence proving Airwing was a psychopath, well then it's just all a part of the job."

Longshot snorted out an amused chuckle. "And what about this femme? What happens to her?"

"Oh, well she's the hero of this story, obviously. You'll have to give her an award."

"And I'm sure you'll let me know exactly what kind of award she deserves after this is all over."

Synergy grinned. "Meet me at the Center in five cycles. We're going in."

* * *

Synergy hung back as Longshot took out the night guards quickly and quietly. Her servo itched for a weapon. She hated being useless, not when she could be _doing something_ besides sitting on her aft and twiddling her thumbs. It was all she could do at the moment, however; she'd never been issued a blaster. She wasn't a Peace Marshall like Longshot, just a scientist. She had never imagined needing a gun before.

Synergy watched as Longshot lifted his blaster and shot a guard square in the back. The bot crumpled, his body already switching into stasis lock. Synergy winced in sympathy; he was going to have a Pit of a time in the CR chamber tomorrow. If only she had known back then what kind of life she would lead as a scientist. She would probably be packing enough weapons to outfit an entire guerrilla army right now. Synergy smirked to herself as Longshot dropped another guard. When this was over, she was going to buy _all_ the blasters.

Like her progenitor used to always say, there was no kill like overkill.

"We'll take the elevator to sub-basement 4," Synergy commanded, already rushing inside the elevator as Longshot trailed behind, his blaster poised and ready for any more guards.

"Just so we're clear," Longshot drawled as the elevator lurched and began its decent. "I'm telling my boss you were the one doing the shooting."

"Coward."

When the elevator doors slid open they revealed an empty floor dominated by a large steel door at the end of a long hall. "That's the entrance," Synergy said and rushed out, ignoring Longshot's indignant cry of 'Wait! Be careful!' Synergy stopped in front of the keypad and pulled out her datapad from her subspace pocket, quickly searching for the code Carillon had given to her.

"You sure this is going to work?" Longshot demanded. "How do you need your supervisor isn't setting you up? He _does_ work for Airwing, after all."

"I don't trust anyone," Synergy replied. "But if I did decide to trust someone it would be Carillon." It wasn't exactly an answer and Longshot knew it. No matter how hard she tried she could never figure out Carillon's agenda. She didn't know whether they were allies or if she was just playing into his servos. Either way, he had helped her out more than once, so, for the moment, she wasn't going to think too hard on it.

The keypad lit up green and accepted the pass code. Synergy sighed in relief and pushed open the heavy, reinforced door. Longshot rushed past her into the pitch black laboratory, making sure to keep his body in front of hers to shield the femme from any danger. Synergy doubted there would be any guards in here. Whatever was going on was top secret; Airwing would want to keep this as quiet as possible. However, it was likely they would find explosives and hazardous chemicals. Possibly even booby traps, like the one Airwing had installed on his computer. After all, no scientist installed a giant steel door like the one they had gotten past unless they were trying to contain something _dangerous_.

"Lights!" Synergy barked out. The laboratory was suddenly flooded with a brilliant, blinding light, forcing Synergy squeeze her optics shut in pain.

"Primus…"

Synergy forced herself to open her optics at the sound of Longshot's voice. He sounded… _disturbed_. Horrified. What could make a hardened Peace Marshall sound like that? Synergy adjusted her optics against the light and gasped in shock. There was a mech tied down to a metal table in the middle of the laboratory with his chassis pinned open and his spark exposed. _His spark!_ Synergy felt her fuel intake roll at the sight and she reached out to brace herself against the wall. She cycled air heavily through her vents, trying to keep from being sick at the image in front of her. The mech kept making these little whimpering noises. Primus, was he still conscious?

Longshot quickly holstered his blaster and ran over to the mech. "He's alive and Maximal," he announced as he reached over the mech's restraints. That was surprising. The mech was huge- as tall as any Predacon. "Find out everything that Airwing has done to him!" Longshot demanded. "I want that fragger to _pay_ for this!"

Synergy nodded and ran over to a computer, quickly booting it up. She searched through Airwing's files on his experiments, trying to find something that would explain this madness. _Project X_, it read. An attempt to recreate Starscream's immortal spark. Synergy leaned forward as she learned about the Decepticon Starscream, how even after death his spark continued to live on. Airwing had discovered that this was caused by a mutation and that he had promised the Maximal Elders that he would recreate it for them. He would give them a whole army of immortal soldiers. The most successful of his victims was a mech known only by the name Airwing had given him- Protoform X. Before, most bots were unable to contain such powerful sparks within their structures for longer than a few cycles before expiring. Maximal and Predacon bodies were more fuel efficient than the old Autobot and Decepticon structures, but they were also noticeably weaker. That is, until Synergy created her software that would integrate DNA into the metal. No one would know by looking at the bot that he contained minute traces of organic material; he was still 99% Cybertronian, after all. But the organic DNA gave his structure just enough of a boost to support the mutant spark.

Synergy almost didn't notice the footnote at the bottom of the report that referenced a minor incident. A lab accident. Nothing for the Elders to get worried about.

Synergy searched through the files trying to find the lab report on the incident in question. What accident? What had happened? The femme came to a stop as she found tapes of old security footage. She watched as scientists struggled with X. He was fighting against the chains they had wrapped him in, pulling and tugging. Then the chains snapped and there was screaming and with one gigantic hand X punched a hole into some hapless mech's chassis and ripped his spark chamber clean out. The deranged mutant then proceeded to _eat the spark inside_.

"Longshot, wait!" Synergy yelled. "Don't release him!"

Longshot turned to look at her in confusion. "What?"

Too late.

X was on him in an instant, sinking his dentals straight into the Longshot's chassis, chewing his way towards his spark. Now that he was free of the large metal pins, his chassis began to heal itself quickly and without the aid of a CR chamber. For one click Synergy could do nothing but stand there and watch. X looked up at her, fluid dripping from his mouth, and _leered_ at her.

She was gone in an instant.

Synergy raced through the laboratory, looking for another exit. She had to escape. She could hear the mutant's heavy footsteps chasing after her. He was calling for her. Taunting her, telling her he could smell her fear. She needed to get away.

There! Synergy reached out and grabbed a metal container before she even knew what she was doing. She whipped around, turning to face her opponent and ran towards him. X obviously hadn't been expecting her to do that because he stumbled a little and looked at her in amused confusion. She didn't give him a chance to react, however, merely ripped the lid off the container and hurled the acid at his face.

His shriek was ungodly, but Synergy kept moving, pushing past him to run back towards Longshot. She avoided looking at the empty, gaping chassis that once contained his spark and focused on his blaster. She snatched it up and lifted her head to see X stalking towards her, nearly doubled over in pain as the acid ate away at the metal on his face. She fired off two shots at him, watching him drop to his knees before racing out the door. She had to get help. Primus, she could only hope one of the guards was out of stasis lock by now.

Synergy let out a furious cry as she felt X's large servos clamp down on one of her arms. She began firing the blaster, her shots going wild as she struggled against his grip. He threw against the wall hard enough that she bounced. The monster grinned maliciously down at her. "So sweet," he rasped. "I bet your spark tastes _delicious_." The damage from the acid was almost completely healed. Could anything stop him?

Synergy glanced around, looking for an escape, before zeroing in on the keypad next the door. She lifted her gun and shot it, blasting the keypad clear off the wall and leaving nothing but a scorch mark. She knew Airwing; he would have security measures in place to make sure nobody could simply blast through his lab. Right on cue lights and sirens began blaring as the laboratory began its countdown sequence. Even with a maniac looming over her Synergy couldn't help but wonder if the self-destruct Airwing had installed was as much to ensure X never escaped as it was to prevent anyone from breaking in.

X seemed put-out by this turn of events. He gave one last lingering look at Synergy before shrugging, clapping her on the shoulder like they were _buddies_, and wandered off. A free mech.

Synergy ran.


	7. Chapter 7

Author's Note – This is the last chapter for this story in the series. I'd like to thank everyone who reviewed. I hope all of you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Thank you!

**Cherchez la Femme**

_Chapter 7_

Synergy fled the laboratory and never looked back. She later learned that there had been no explosion; someone had pulled the failsafe, halting the countdown mid-sequence. She suspected it had been Airwing. Of course the computer would have sent a missive to the Director noting that the security in his private laboratory had been breached. It didn't matter anyway. X was long gone.

She stayed locked in her unit for three whole solar cycles. She didn't come out and she didn't contact anyone, except for her progenitor to let him know that everything was alright and that she was just taking a 'break' from work. It would only be a matter of time before Airwing would come for her. Synergy knew he must suspect that she had something to do with the break-in and X's subsequent escape. She supposed she could go on the run, but in a way she didn't want to. She had let that thing out, she had gotten Longshot killed; she should have to pay for what she did.

He never showed up though. There were no squads of Peace Marshalls or government officials crawling all over her unit, ready to drag her off to the Stockade. There wasn't even so much as a call demanding to know why she hadn't shown up for work. It wasn't until the fourth solar cycle that this changed.

There was a quiet knock on her door.

For a moment she froze and thought, 'This is it.' It only took a click before she realized how stupid that was. Peace Marshalls wouldn't have just politely knocked on her door if they knew the things she did. What did she think they would do? Invite her over for a nice cup of energon? Rolling her optics at her own paranoia, Synergy quickly keyed the door open. Carillon stood in her doorway, his huge bulk blocking any light from shining through. Of course it would be him.

She waved him inside and he stooped down low to squeeze through. "So, what's happened?" Synergy demanded. "Are they coming for me or not?" She refused to sound afraid in front of him.

Carillon shook his head. "The Council doesn't want any of this to get out. They're making sure that it is all swept under the rug and any evidence destroyed. Airwing has taken an indefinite leave of absence for 'stress' and one of the other department heads has stepped up as the new Director. I've covered for your absence in the meantime, though everything's been in such chaos that I doubt they would have even noticed you were missing." Carillon took a seat; his huge form looked ridiculous perched on top of the small chair. He looked Synergy square in the optics, silently demanding she tell him the truth. "What _did_ happen at the Center that night?"

Synergy sighed and dug out the datachip that she had prepared to send off to all the major news networks on Cybertron for when the Peace Marshalls came for her. Now that she knew she was safe, however, she wasn't sure if she was going to send it; on the one servo the people had a right to know, but on the other if she did go public with Project X then she would be a target. But she trusted Carillon in a strange way. They were in this together, after all. "This is everything that I've got," she answered. "Everything that's been going on. It's got specs on the way they manipulated _my_ software, their insane theories, it's… It's disgusting is what it is."

Carillon took the data chip from her and nodded his head. "I'll look over it. It's going to be okay."

Synergy shook her head. "No, it won't. You'll understand when you read through the files."

* * *

Synergy stared blearily at the holographic screen in her living room as the reporter droned on about a massacre in the Predacon district. Over fifty bots had been killed in one single building – a place the authorities suspected of being the center of an illegal smuggling operation – their chest plates had been pried open and their sparks gone. The Predacons were claiming that a monster was prowling their neighborhoods, devouring the sparks of anyone it caught in its claws. The Maximal Peace Marshalls insisted that it was simply inter-Predacon violence, just one gang trying to wipe out the competition and using scare tactics to terrorize the people.

Synergy tried to squash the wave of guilt that rolled over her.

She sighed in relief when the screen began blinking, letting her know that she had an incoming call. She quickly switched the console over to communications and found herself face-to-face with Carillon. "I'm guessing you've read over the files?" She asked.

"Yes." The word sounded fuzzy and the image of Carillon crackled in front of her.

"Where are you calling from?" She demanded. "The signal is terrible. I'm getting a lot of static."

He gave her a strange smile, partly mocking and partly pitying. "I'm on Corsicon," he replied.

"Corsicon?" Synergy racked her processor, trying to place the name. "Where is that? Is it near Omicron?"

"No, it's in the Predacon quadrant, near Gamma Colony and Synthesia."

For a moment Synergy couldn't think- which was surprising because she was always thinking. Her progenitor used to laugh and say that she always two steps ahead of everyone else. But… this doesn't make any sense. Carillon is… "You're the Predacon spy," Synergy gasped. "The one Longshot had been tracking. The one he accused _me_ of being."

Carillon nodded his head, pleased that she had figured it out. "I want to thank you for your help. We knew that the Maximals were developing weapons of war, we just had no idea it would be anything like Protoform X. Oh, don't worry, we won't be creating any immortal sparks," he assured at the look of horror on Synergy's face. "I think we've all learned our lesson about that. But your software certainly has some interesting capabilities. I think if given enough time and effort we might be able to create a structure that could withstand almost anything."

"Not if I contact the Peace Marshalls," Synergy hissed out. "I'll tell them what you are and what you've got. Do you think they'll ever stop hunting you then? They'll do anything to keep this quiet. You idiot, you even told me your exact location. They'll be on you within a cycle."

Carillon laughed at that. "Go ahead. Do you think they won't arrest you too? You're the one who _gave_ me the datachip. You knew the information was top secret, you broke into Airwing's private laboratory to obtain it, you released a violet and unstoppable killer, and a Peace Marshall was killed during all of this. You will be executed as a traitor, same as me. We're in this together, remember?"

Synergy bit her glossa. He was right. Of course, he was. He had played her like a fool.

Carillon gave that same half-mocking, half-pitying smile. "Don't worry. I don't turn my back on those who've helped me. I'm the only one left who can implicate you in any of this and so long as you don't go after me I won't tell a single spark."

Synergy frowned at that. "What do you mean you're the only one left?"

"Oh, I killed Airwing." He said it so simply, like it was no big deal. _Nice weather we're having, and, oh, I've killed Airwing_, Synergy shivered at the thought. "He was in hiding, terrified of what X might do to him if he ever found him. But he didn't think anything of letting his old pal Carillon inside his little hideout. There were a few others – some security guards, a scientist – who suspected you might have had something to do with the break-in. They were easy to take care of. Congratulations, Synergy. You're free. You've got nothing to fear."

Then he hung up.

* * *

"Your record is very impressive," the gray and silver colored mech said as he looked over her file. "Top of your class, an internship at the Center, and I've seen you've recently taken up martial arts. What made you decide to sign up for this mission?"

Synergy smiled charmingly up at the captain of the Axalon. "I needed to a change of pace. Besides, this is an exploratory mission. I'm a scientist. It made sense."

Optimus shook his head in bewilderment. "This is an exploratory mission in search of new _organic_ life. You're primarily a tech scientist."

"So? I also invented the software you'll be using to acquire organic alt modes. I have many interests."

Optimus was still frowning, glancing over the words that scrolled over his datapad. Synergy sighed in exasperation. "What's the problem?" She asked.

"It's just…" he hesitated for a moment, then plowed on. "It's unexpected. You were on the fast track at the Center and then you just… gave it up. And then, out of the blue, you sign up for this mission. I don't see anything here that would indicate you had a previous interest in exploration. Is there something going on that I need to know about?"

Synergy bared her dentals in an approximation of a smile. She knew exactly what kind of 'mission' the Axalon was going on and it had nothing to do with exploration. She had mistakes to atone for and by Primus nothing was going to stop her. "I've done some bad things. I want to be a better person."

"What could you have possibly done that was so horrible?" Optimus asked, his voice incredulous at the thought of such a small and harmless looking femme doing something wrong.

Synergy laughed. "What can I say? Even when I'm good, I'm still bad."

* * *

Blackarachnia woke up with a new purpose in life: to find Rampage and kick his aft.

**Fin**


End file.
